Nice Dreams
by supremegreendragon
Summary: England has a potion that induces wonderful dreams while you're asleep. And of course, France finds it and gives it to everyone. Slight m/m pairings. Some fluff and humor too.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Own nothing.**

 **So this is just a humor piece. There will be some fluffy light m/m pairings but they won't be the focus. This is just a dive into some of the country's dreams.**

* * *

The faeries were singing today, so England knew that this day promised to be a splendid one. The sun was warm and beaming down on him, with streaks of golden light shining on his favorite book. The sweet songs, the fresh air, the warm light: What more could England ask for?

Suddenly, there was a tap on his shoulder. England turned to look up, frowning when he saw America. Great, this was just what he needed to ruin a perfect day.

But America looked solemn and this made England worry. America sat down in silence.

"What's the matter, America?"

The American country was avoiding eye contact, like a nervous child about to confess to a bad deed. England couldn't remember the last time America showed himself looking so helpless.

"Um….England….?"

"…Yes? What's wrong? Please tell me."

America dared to look up. His blue eyes were wide and pleading and the sight made England's heart melt as fond memories entered his head. America needed him for something.

He actually needed him.

"I…uh…I don't know how to say this…" America stalled.

A thought struck England and he gulped.

"Please tell me you're not in love."

He couldn't stand the thought of his little America falling in love. To his relief, the American nation laughed out loud.

"No, dude. It's nothing like that," he was cheerful for half a second.

"Then what? What is it you need to tell me?"

The smile crashed on the other country's face, the topic was not to be dropped. America bit his bottom lip and looked down to the floor. England's mind flooded with horrifying thoughts. Something was wrong with America, but how could it be so terrible that it would ruin England's day? Didn't the fae promise him a good day today? So why would there be bad news? It didn't make sense!

England jumped up when America clasped his hands in his and started to silently weep.

"Please take me back," America whispered.

The English nation was beyond confused by America's words. He forced America to look at him by grabbing his chin, careful not to hold on too tightly.

"What are you talking about? You're not making any sense, America. Please calm down and tell me plainly what it is you need from me."

The blue eyes spilled a few more stray tears that England swept away with his thumb. America was still distraught but England's advice did seem to be calming him down ever so slightly. America's lips stopped wobbling so much.

"I…I want to be your colony again."

He heard the words very clearly, knew what they meant but still…still England had no idea what he had just heard. Hope swelled in his chest as the seconds ticking by allowed him to process the information.

Was America saying what he thought he was? Was the country that left his side to be his own independent nation, actually pleading him to take him back? What about that war they had centuries ago? The one that America claimed victory and left England crying in the rain. America, the nation that prided himself on being independent, wanted to be England's colony again?

Was this all a glorious dream? England smiled and hugged tightly on his sort-of son.

"Of course I'll take you back, lad! We'll have to fill out a few paperwork and probably assassinate some protesters in your government, but I'll be more than happy to be your father again. My sweet boy!"

Tears of joy were streaming down England's eyes. The fae never disappointed. He still heard their sweet songs above him.

Suddenly, the songs became loud and obnoxious, so much so that it woke England up. He took a gaze of his surroundings and spotted someone unwelcomed.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" England demanded, clutching onto the pillow that he had been hugging in his sleep.

France blew him a kiss but England dodged it so hah! The French nation was clothed in his favorite blue attire, ready to start the day. But his hair was tied back, something he did whenever he wanted to cook.

"I got breakfast ready," the Frenchman stated.

England covered himself up since he was only in his knickers. There was a maddening red blush on his cheeks that France found amusing enough to chuckle at.

"I told you to stop breaking and entering! How'd you find the key this time?"

"You hid it in your rosebushes, mon ami. How could I not find it?"

"What do you mean? You go into my rose bushes?" England demanded.

"I need to save on money whenever I give people symbols of love."

"Do you mean to tell me," England seethed, "That the roses you give to everyone to get into their pants, are mine?!"

"Not always. I never take more than a few dozen," there went that smirk that France was known for. England happily wiped it away by throwing a pillow on his face.

France recovered quickly.

"You looked to be having a wonderful dream. What was zit about?"

"Scrub that smirk off your face. You weren't even in it."

That actually did make France pout a little. England shook himself off and gathered his clothes from the drawer. He would go into his bathroom to change.

France grabbed the empty potion bottle that was on his night stand, the one he drank before bed. The French nation gave it a curious sniff and arched a brow.

"What experiment were you performing on yourself zis time?"

"That's just a potion to give someone good dreams," England explained while he grabbed his trousers. France looked up with interest in his eyes.

"Really? And it actually works?"

"Of course! My magic is completely legit, you wanker! And don't you forget it!" England screamed.

"Could I try it?"

"No way. Get your own faerie made potion. Oh wait, you can't. Because they don't like you. Hahahaha!"

With that victorious and rather gay sounding laugh, England went into his bedroom to change. But France wasn't bothered. He knew England's house well enough to find some of these potions. He wouldn't mind trying it out.

And possibly letting a 'few' other countries try as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Warning: Stupid jokes coming. Please, try not to get offended.

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"Wow! Really? That sounds super sweet, dude," America beamed up.

France had invited everyone he could think of to his house in Paris and he wasn't disappointed with the turnout. There was America, Canada, the Italian brothers, the German brothers, Russia, Japan, China, Hungary, Austria, Spain and Belarus.

England really should learn to hide his things better. It only took France five seconds at most to find the several bottles of good dream potion in his house. England still had no idea they were missing.

"It sounds stupid," Belarus scowled in her usual way.

"I like this idea," Russia stated.

He groaned when his younger sister grabbed onto his arm and held it with her slender hands. She cuddled into the crook of his shoulder while Russia stared longingly at America, something she (fortunately for America) didn't notice.

"I like this idea too. It's brilliant," Belarus added.

France smiled. That was three countries down. He turned back to look at the remaining. Italy waved his arms excitedly.

"I like having nice dreams. And Romano can finally stop clinging to me because he has bad dreams."

"You have bad dreams often, Roma?" Spain frowned in concern, licking a napkin and trying to wash his ex-henchman's face with it, much like a caring mother would. But Romano threw Spain's affections away.

"That's none of you bastards' business."

"I want the potion. I want it. I want it!"

"Calm down, America," Canada soothed.

"Who said that?" Austria looked over his shoulder as if he could find a ghost somewhere in the room.

France offered a pleasant smile to his pseudo son when Canada started looking sad. He offered him the first bottle to make him feel better.

"Why don't you all try it? I certainly will. You should have seen how happy it made Angleterre."

"That must make you happy, right?" China smirked. France shrugged it off. He didn't mind being teased about his obvious interest in England.

"Well, I'll try it. If you other people don't want to try-" this time it was France's turn to smirk when the other countries took one bottle each.

Later that night, America got on his red, white and blue pjs and fell asleep on his American flag bed.

A second later, America found himself flying at Mach 6 into the sun for the third time that morning. After absorbing the heat from the star, he came back down and dove into the Pacific Ocean, creating a burst of steam from the impact. Why did he do this? Hell if he knew. But it looked awesome.

After he got bored with that, he decided to go fight some baddies. First he fought his arch nemesis, Insensitively Stereotypical Muslim Man. Then he fought Freedom Hater. Then he finished up by fighting Crime Commie, who looked and acted and sounded an awful lot like Russia. Crime Commie held his pickaxe of doom, ready to strike it into America's chest. The American nation braced himself before thrusting a punch toward his foe.

He was uppercutted by Crime Commie's fist, and America was sent spiraling down. Crime Commie was about to land his axe on America while he was down, but America managed to roll off to the side just in the nick of time. He got up and the two had one of those epic stare downs that the villain and hero usually had at least once in a movie, sometimes more, depending on filler.

Rus- er – Crime Commie smiled his cold chilling smirk, eyes hard as ice. America was about to use eye lazars when his foe pulled out a small box from his pocket. America blinked curiously when the other person showed what was in the box, a diamond ring.

"Fredka, will you marry me?"

America gulped, feeling suddenly flustered. He changed his mind. He didn't want the other male to be Crime Commie, better name him Russia. Yes, Russia was a much better name for him.

And he wasn't a bad guy either, America decided. Russia was only testing him. Yes, that was it. He loved rewriting his own dream.

"I…uh…well I…"

Russia smiled in amusement. He pinched America's cheeks.

"Cat got your tongue, da?"

But Russia was shocked when America suddenly grabbed him bridal style like he only weighed a few pounds. America nuzzled Russia's neck and now it was the Russian nation that was flushed red like a virgin.

"I would love to marry you. If you would be happy to take me as your husband?"

Russia recovered with a smile and hugged him back.

"Of course, Fredka. I always wanted to be a super hero's wife."

America invited all the countries of the world, which they all showed up since they _obviously_ had nothing better to do than celebrate America's special days.

England was the best man, smiling at America while patting him on the back. Canada was the ring bearer and in chibi forms for reasons that America didn't feel like questioning. Maybe he just liked his little brother better when he was actually, you know, little! France served as the priest and Ukraine gave away the bride.

One beautiful reception later, America was happily married and off to fight more crime with his new bride/sidekick. The dream concluded with the sun shining on America's face, making him wake up despite his protests.

He smiled ecstatically. That was the most amazing dream ever! England shouldn't have been hogging the goods to himself like that. Everything about the dream was perfect!

Though why did he dream about marrying Russia? And why did the thought send a good feeling thrill down his spine? America was never aware that he wanted to marry Russia. The dream still seemed to be the best one he had ever had, even with the wedding in there.

Maybe it was even a good dream _because_ of the wedding scene? America immediately shook his head. Nah, that can't be it. There was no way he secretly had a thing for the Russian country. Next time he went to bed, he would take a double dose of the potion just to be safe.


	3. Chapter 3

"No! I don't want to take the stupid eyebrow bastard's potion," Romano threw his arms up in the air much like when he was a young little chibi thing. As cute as the sight was, Spain couldn't help but frown at the other country's reaction. Italy had taken the potion without any trouble at all and was already asleep. Spain wanted Romano to take it so that he wouldn't have any more bad dreams.

"But Lovi, you shouldn't be having these nightmares. I really want you to try it. Please? For Boss?"

"No way!"

 _Meanwhile in Italy's dream…._

The sun finally had a face on it, just like Italy knew it should have. Now the sun could smile all it wanted to, since it had a face. Italy pranced around, looking at everyone's happy faces. There were no sad people in his dream.

Speaking of miserable people, Italy wanted to see Romano. Maybe in his dream, his big brother no longer had that big stick up his fanny? Italy would love to see Romano with a happy face.

As he walked along the pavement filled with all the pretty flowers, Italy was stopped by a smiling Japan.

"Konichiwa, Italy-san."

"Ciao, Japan. What are you up to?"

"I am going to play on beach! You want to join me?"

"Of course! And Germany should come too!"

"Yes, he should," Japan agreed.

Italy's smile didn't exactly falter but it did lessen just a teensy weensy bit when a thought struck him.

"But Germany always has work to do."

"Do not worry. In your dream, there is nothing boring like work."

"Veh? Really!" this was too good to be true.

"Hai. And Germany-san is much happier now that he doesn't have work."

Since Italy's brain was so ditzy, he momentarily forgot all about seeing his brother smile. Now he really wanted to see Germany with a grin on his face.

"I'll go to Germany's house and see him."

"Okay. I will see you at beach."

Italy didn't feel like walking, so he teleported to Germany's house. It was convenient to have powers in his dreams that made him see his friends faster. Italy went through the door. Even outside of the dream, Italy was so close to Germany that he didn't need to knock.

When he saw it, his heart skipped a beat. Germany was sitting on his couch and petting his Russian Blue cat.

And there was a gorgeous and wide grin on his face. It was so endearing that it made Italy flushed just looking at it. Germany's blue eyes shone when they spotted Italy.

"Hallo, Italy. I was waiting for you."

Italy felt his heart warm. It was nice to hear Germany say something like that and not something like _I can't play with you today, Italy. Go bother someone else. What are you doing with those crayons? Don't color on my work papers. Oh no, Italy stop!_

Yes, it was so much better to hear that Germany was waiting for him.

"You were?"

"Yah. You always make every day fun, Italy. And everything. Remember how fun you make wars? Everyone likes wars so much better now that we use paint guns instead of those dangerous weapons."

Italy waved his arms excitedly. He knew all along that fun was the answer to world peace! Speaking of fun…

"Veh. Will you come to the beach with me and Japan? Pretty please?"

"Sure. Let's go right now."

A second later, the three friends were splashing around in the water. Italy got to talk to a very friendly shark while Japan made some sushi. Germany relaxed on the beach in the sand, with nothing on but some very short swim trunks.

Italy couldn't focus on the shark's exciting tales about meeting his wife. He just couldn't take his eyes off Germany and the grin spread on the blonde's face. This was everything Italy wanted to see. He was pretty naïve but not completely unable to have dirty fantasies. And here was Germany, almost wearing nothing but a smile, his skin soaking up the sun, his eyes closed in a near peaceful slumber. He looked wonderful.

Germany was not only content in this dream.

He was happy.

Italy didn't want to wake up. He wanted this dream to last forever. Japan announced that their dinner was ready, and to Italy's pleasant surprise, he somehow made pasta to go with it. The food was warm and delicious. The hot meal in his belly made Italy tired. He leaned back without thought, surprised when his back hit a solid chest. He looked up to see Germany smiling down on him.

"You can sleep if you want."

Sleep on Germany's chest? Was this all a wonderful dream? Oh right, it was. But Italy couldn't find it in him to care too much. Even if this wasn't real, it was a wonderful thing. Italy closed his eyes and took comfort in falling asleep.

He woke up, for real this time. There was no Germany close by, no one at all. Once again, he woke up alone in his bed. Italy got up and saw that Spain and Romano's bottles were both completely full, meaning that they hadn't taken a drop of the potion.

That was weird. Italy wondered why they wouldn't take this incredible stuff. The dream he had was the best he had ever had, and he had dreams about giant pasta, so that was saying something.

To his dismay, Italy noticed that his elder brother was tossing and turning in his sleep once more. Just like all the other nights, he was muttering and shaking his head. Italy didn't know what he was dreaming, but it must be making him very sad.

Italy shook Romano awake.

"What? What?" Romano looked around, noticing the sleeping Spain close by and the sad looking Italy.

The very, very sad looking Italy. It made Romano's protective brother side pull to life.

"What's wrong, Italy?"

"I had a wonderful dream. Can't you take the potion too? Please? For just one night? I'm so tired of seeing you so sad."

Italy felt awfully sad despite just having a really great dream. He knew part of the reason was Romano's nightmare. The other part was that the fact dawned on him that it was _only_ a dream. Italy wanted it to be so much more.

Romano's expression softened.

"Fine. I'll take it later."

Now Italy smiled.


End file.
